The Car-Who-Conquered
by Paradoxlune
Summary: The Dark Lord Voldemort has been defeated... By a car! Everyone gather round to hear the story of The Car-Who-Conquered! A silly little one-shot that my sister suggested and I just had to write. Hope you all enjoy!


**Well this story can be blamed on my sister. She thought the whole mad thing up while we were in the car. The stuff written in italics is parts of a scene taken directly from the books so obviously doesn't belong to me. Skip it if you want, but I included it after my brother got very confused as to where everything was and what was happening. It just adds a bit of context as to when events occur. I would skip it personally, but then I know the books really well and wrote this so I'm biased.**

Harry stood before Voldemort, trying to breathe deeply as the dark wizard raised his wand. This was it, he was the last Horcrux and once he was dead Voldemort would be mortal. Snape had somehow managed to poison Nagini even as she killed him and she'd died while he bled out on the floor. Voldemort had been furious at this but seemed to take this as proof that Snape had been the one hunting his Horcruxes, which left him feeling smug and self-assured. Opposite Harry, Voldemort's face twisted in a horrific facsimile of pleasure as he hissed the killing curse, "Avada Kedavra."

 _He lay facedown, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself._ _  
_ _A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too._ _  
_ _Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not concern him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered whether, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes._ _  
_ _He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before .His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be._ _  
_ _He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing glasses anymore._ _  
_ _Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful._ _  
_ _For the first time, he wished he were clothed._ _  
_ _Barely had the wish formed in his head than robes appeared a short distance away. He took them and pulled them on. They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared just like that, the moment he had wanted them..._ _  
_ _He stood up, looking around. Was he in some great Room of Requirement? The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist…_ _  
_ _Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for –_ _  
_ _He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath._ _  
_ _He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him._

 __ _"I've got to go back, haven't I?"_ _  
_ _"That is up to you."_ _  
_ _"I've got a choice?"_ _  
_ _"Oh yes," Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to . . . let's say . . . board a train."_ _  
_ _"And where would it take me?"_ _  
_ _"On," said Dumbledore simply._ _  
_ _Silence again._ _  
_ _"Voldemort's got the Elder Wand."_ _  
_ _"True. Voldemort has the Elder Wand."_ _  
_ _"But you want me to go back?"_ _  
_ _"I think," said Dumbledore, "that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does."_ _  
_ _Harry glanced again at the raw looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair._ _  
_ _"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, they we saw good-bye for the present."_ _  
_ _Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. He stood up, and Dumbledore did the same, and they looked for a long moment into each other's faces._ _  
_ _"Tell me one last thing," said Harry, "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"_ _  
_ _Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure._ _  
_ _"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"_

Harry awoke to find himself back in the Forbidden Forest, thinking quickly, he attempted to remain still and keep up the illusion of death. This was ruined as he bolted upright, eyes flying open as the sound of an engine and crunching tyres filled the air before there was a sickening crunch, a high pitched scream then a deathly silence.

Harry blinked several times and stared, open mouthed, at the scene before him. Directly opposite him, looking more scratched up than ever and missing a chunk of its roof, sat the Weasley's flying Ford Anglia. This wasn't what drew his attention though, no, his eyes were riveted to the pair of scaly, chalk white, bare feet poking out from beneath the cars' front wheels.

The Death Eaters were all arranged around the clearing, frozen in shock - staring at their obviously dead Dark Lord.

Suddenly, with a squeal of tyres, the Ford Anglia moved over to Harry, further squashing Voldemort into the dirt in the process. The doors popped open and Harry easily slid into the drivers' seat, still too shocked to protest. The car took off again before stopping again next to Hagrid. Realising what the car wanted, Harry managed to chivvy the half giant into the part of the car missing a roof. Once both wizards were safely seated, the enchanted car disappeared into the forest with a roar as the Death Eaters finally awoke from their stupor with yells of fury. Harry grinned smugly as they sped back towards the castle. He was alive and Voldemort had been defeated by a _car._ What more could you ask for out of a single day?

The car carried them right up to the front steps before depositing them on the singed grass. Harry hurriedly led a still shell shocked Hagrid inside before entering the Great Hall. After leaving Hagrid with Madame Pomfrey, he cast a quick _Sonorus_ and started speaking, "Everyone! Everyone please listen."

Instantly, silence descended as those well enough to do so turned to stare at Harry. "Voldemort is dead," Harry declared solemnly, "He was killed in a moment of weakness by the car enchanted by Arthur Weasley back in my second year."

The hall broke out into chaos at that, everyone shouting in confusion and surprise. How could a car have destroyed the greatest dark lord of their age? Arthur was standing in the middle of it all, spluttering in shock at the news.

" _Enough!"_ Harry yelled, effectively silencing the babble. "The Death Eaters are still out there. Could anyone experienced who is well enough please plan a way to capture as many of them as possible."

The next few hours were a frenzy of work but soon enough Voldemort's body was carried out of the forest and Harry's claims confirmed. The Death Eaters were rounded up as they chased Arthur's car through the forest. Harry was presented with the Elder Wand that he quickly used to fix his own before he burned the first Hallow.

Years passed. The Ford Anglia was still seen on occasion in the Forbidden Forest. Harry surprised everyone by marrying Luna Lovegood. They had two sons, Remus Sirius Potter and Arthur Ford Potter. They also had a daughter who they named Selene Lily Potter after their mothers. All their children were told the stories behind their names and all Arthur had to say on the matter was, "Why do I have to be named after a _car?!"_

Remus was just glad that he wasn't called Xenophilius James or something equally bad. Teddy just laughed at them all.

 **…I love this far too much.**


End file.
